est. 2005
I’m back to work today after two days off for midwinter break.
This means it’s the beginning of the end.
13 days of work left.
I haven’t had a lot of time to dwell on it though.
Because this little guy has kept me pretty darned entertained….
He’s two and half.
And I love it.
Friday was my pre-admission appointment at the hospital for my delivery and stay with Charlie.
I was asked of any medical conditions besides my drug allergies and my postpartum depression.
I said anxiety.
And had to catch the sob in my throat.
*************
I asked Cort to bring up the itty bitty clothes because I couldn’t stand it anymore.
He did.
I opened three totes of memories.
And my hands and feet erupted in sweat.
*************
Saturday morning Cort picks up the twin-size mattress we bought for Eddie.
Eddie is so excited to sleep on it, I go out and buy sheets so he can use it for nap.
He sleeps like a champ.
And asks to sleep there at night.
And nap on Sunday.
And for the rest of his life.
I cry in an empty nursery.
************
As I search for ways to be productive around the house, flashbacks of the weeks postpartum fill my vision.
I am unable to do anything.
The difficulty of moving with an abdominal wound.
The help I needed but never asked for.
My head spins.
************
Because Eddie wants to sleep permanently in his new room, he and I moved all his clothes to his new dresser.
It will be easier for Cort in the mornings.
I also put his diapers and some wipes in his room.
And then walked around aimlessly all day in a haze.
************
As I pee, I see my idea of the near future.
Trying to take care of postpartum body wounds and “stuff”.
A crying baby.
A needy toddler who thinks he “can do his own self.”
A husband gone to class.
************
I took Eddie’s name off the nursery wall.
He looked at them on the floor and asked me to put them in his “own room”.
I said Ok.
He smiled.
I turned away so he wouldn’t see my tears.
*************
I knew it would be awesome if we transitioned before Charlie was here.
But part of me wasn’t rushing anything.
And then he went and transitioned himself.
Without considering if I was ready.
*************
He can suddenly climb into his booster at the table himself.
He can go get his own tissues and diapers and anything else.
He carries things for me.
He not-so-routinely pees and poos on the potty.
He is so proud.
I…am proud…and heartbroken.
*************
I wanted a happy toddler and a squishy newborn.
But I am terrified.
This is just how it should happen.
And not at all how I thought it would happen.
Dear Eddie,
Oh my little buddy. We are entering a difficult time.
You are at that rough age of two-but-not-quite-three. You want so badly to do things by yourself, on your own, without help. You want things done your way, on your schedule.
You struggle to communicate your wants, and when we have to say “no,” you struggle with how to show your anger and frustration at not getting your way.
It hurts my heart to watch you go through this phase.
Sometimes the minute you come through the door after getting home from daycare our push and pull starts. I will ask you if you had fun and you will shout, “NO!”
I will tell you I missed you and you will yell, “NO!”
I’ll try to hug you and you will pull away and tell me, “NO TALK A ME, MOM.”
I know you’ve had a big day. I know you were probably cheery and fine for 95% of that big day. And I know you are tired.
So you will get your juice from the fridge. And if it is not full enough, you will want to pour your own. And I will say no. And you will slap the couch or coffee table and take off for the nursery all the while sobbing, “I JUS WANNA JUICEY. NO JUICEY FOR EDDIE. MOMMY NO JUICEY. I WANNA JUICEY. WAAAAAAAAAAA.”
You are so much like I was at that age.
It makes Grandma and Grandpa giggle.
It makes me smile too, because I can actually remember being an over dramatic, whiny child.
But at the same time, something inside me breaks when you just can’t find a good thing in this world to smile about. I search you for my sweet little boy. My Eddie Bear. And he is not there.
He is replaced by a sad, frustrated, anger ball of a toddler.
I try to stay calm. I let you stomp to the nursery, but I know you are also frustrated because all your things are moving downstairs.
I hate this that phase–and I know it’s a phase–is aligning with you becoming a Big Brother.
Things are changing and you both love and hate it.
You are so eager to help with Charlie and to know when he will be here and to tell people about him.
But you hate that you can’t sit in his infant tub or play with his bottles or lay on his activity mat.
You want to do things yourself and be a Big Boy.
But you don’t want to give up your spot as my Baby either.
This week, while daddy was in class, you and I rocked in the nursery before bed. You asked me to sing the ABC’s, so I did. Then you asked me about some of baby Charlie’s things that are piling up in the nursery.
I answered your questions. Then there was silence.
In that silence, you nuzzled your face closer to me and put Lamby up to your nose.
I leaned in and said, “Hey Eddie. Guess what?”
And you looked up and went, “huh?”
“You are so very special to me, do you know that?”
And a smile spread behind your pipey.
“You will always be so special and important to me. Do you know why?”
“Why, Mommy? Why?”
“Because of you, I am a mommy! You turned me into a mommy! Did you know that?”
“Yeah.”
Of course you have no idea. But you seemed happy about it.
The next day you were a bit of a grizzly bear again.
You have even yelled at Renae at daycare…something you have never done.
I know it’s hard growing up. I do. And I wish I could say that once you get past this phase, it gets easier.
But it doesn’t.
Life and phases happen all the way from two years old until…well…I don’t think it ever ends, bud.
But know this: Your Daddy and I know you are a sweet, kind boy. You make us proud in so many ways. You are so smart and funny and amazing.
And while we know you are going through a phase, we want you to know that we will do our best to understand and guide you through it so you can be better for it.
That doesn’t mean it’s OK to throw things or hit when you are frustrated. It means we will show you healthy ways to express your frustration.
Like knowing you need to go sit in the rocking chair for awhile, and being able to tell us, “I AM ANGRY RIGHT NOW, MOMMY!”
You are making good choices, my little friend. Most of the time.
And we will get through this.
I promise.
I will love you forever, you know. No matter what or who comes along.
Love, Mommy
About 2 weeks ago I went on a pinning spree on pinterest for Valentine ideas for Eddie to “make” for his friends at daycare.
I showed them all to Cort and asked him which one he liked best for Eddie and I to make.
Me: Hey, babe. Which of these do you like better? I sort of like the Owl one, but getting a pencil is sort of boring. But it’s cute. What do you think?
Cort: They’re all cute. whatever.
Me: Should I do this monster one? That is cute.
Cort: Do the bear one. That looks easiest. Plus we know the kids like Bear Grahams (what Eddie calls Teddy Grahams).
Me: Ok. Yeah. The bear one. Eddie can help me with that one.
Fast forward to this past Saturday morning.
Cort is going over the grocery list I made before he goes to the store to make sure he knows what I mean by everything.
Cort: Gummy Bears?
Me: Yeah, you know, for the Bear Valentine’s Eddie and I are going to make tomorrow?
Cort: Oh. Right. Ok.
And the boys leave me alone for a good hour to do the grocery shopping.
They get home and Eddie is all excited and sticky.
Wait…sticky?
I get a wipe and Eddie starts telling me something about candy and dinosaurs. Cort smiles and says, “oh yes. There was a theme to our shopping today.”
Oh fun! I was glad Eddie was a good boy for grocery shopping and they could have some daddy/son fun.
I start to empty the groceries: cereal, poptarts, gummy dinosaurs, broccoli…
wait. gummy DINOSAURS?
Me: Um, babe? Were they out of gummy bears? (perhaps said with more than needed attitude)
Cort: No. We had a discussion and decided the dinosaurs were cooler. Why? Did it need to be bears?
Me: Um. sort of. It’s a BEAR HUG Valentine. Dinosaurs don’t make sense (again said with WAY too much attitude).
Cort: Do you want me to go back to the store? (said trying to hold back the frustration of the wife who is maybe making too big a deal out of all of this).
Me: No. We will just use the teddy grahams. No biggie. Wait…you bought dinosaur graham crackers too??
Cort: Yeah. I told you. It was a theme.
Me: THE WRONG THEME.
And this, my friends, is where I lost all sight that my husband took my son out of the house for over an hour so his pregnant, uncomfortable wife could shower in peace and then read her book alone.
Where I snapped off his head for forgetting something I probably would have forgotten too if I was trying to make fun and happy out of a grocery trip with a 2-year old.
Cort: It’s not the end of the world. I will just go back.
Me (suddenly realizing I have lost my mind over something dumb): No. It’s ok. I’ll make it work. I’m sorry.
And I did. Because there was no way I was making Cort go back out to the store over seven Valentines for kids under the age of five who will just scarf down the treat and toss the Valentine anyway.
So instead of “Bear Hugs to _____ from Eddie,”
We have “I think you’re DINO-MITE! RAWR! From Eddie” (attached to a baggie with Meijer brand Dinosaur graham crackers and gummy dinosaurs).
It’s really more his style anyway.
Happy Valentine’s Day from Sluiter Nation! We think YOU’RE Dino-mite!
RAWR!
I first saw this lovely idea of doing a self-portrait post at my friend Grace’s blog. And of course hers is stunning. Not just the picture but her words. She linked to this being Chelsey’s original idea. Whoever thought it up…I love it. And I am doing it.
So here we go…
Obsessing over…
The plans surrounding Charlie’s birth. Sometimes I think knowing the date and time is just as bad for me as not knowing. Luckily my mother-in-law is saving the day and taking Eddie in the morning so he can be FIRST to meet his brother. That is VERY important to me for some reason. And then we are saying no visitors until 4:00ish when people start getting off from work so I can actually rest and have alone time with my newborn…something I didn’t get last time. But I can’t stop thinking about it. The weird thing is that I really loved my hospital stay last time and I am hoping to love it just as much this time. Weird? Maybe.
Working on…
Growing a baby, making long-term sub plans, giving all my free time to Eddie, and being nice to Cortney even when there is a foot in my ribs.
We are also perpetually working on Eddie’s Big Boy Room.
Thinking about…
What Charlie will look like…what will it be like to have two boys…what will it be like to sniff a baby head again…what Charlie’s personality will be like (please be chill like your daddy, Charlie)…how something has switched in my brain and I am totally looking forward to five plus months off from work to learn to be a mom of two….how much our lives are about to change.
Anticipating…
all the days on the calendar with NO PLANS and hoping to keep some of that just the way it is…and not apologize for it.
Listening to…
At this exact moment…The Grammys. Lately, I have reignited my crazy love for Pearl Jam and cannot stop listening to live shows every morning on my drive in to work.
I’m also trying to listen to my body and my mind and my heart and doing what they need instead of what others might want. That is where I went astray when I had Eddie and I refuse to do that again.
Eating…
Surprisingly well for being 9 months pregnant. Small, fairly good for me meals and lots of fruit.
And lots and LOTS of peanut butter m&ms.
Wishing…
For a smooth rest of my pregnancy and a happy, healthy baby.
For a date with my cute husband ASAP after this baby is out and I can go up and down stairs again.
For ppd/a to just stay the crap away from me this time.
pink ruffles and lace
dolls and tea cups
hair bows and nail polish
Barbies and My Little Ponies
These things have been on my mind a lot lately.
No…we didn’t find out Charlie is a girl or anything. I am still growing a bouncing baby boy as far as I know.
But I have been thinking about daughters.
I get asked over and over again whether I was a bit disappointed to find out we were having another boy.
And the answer I give every time is a completely honest, “not at all.”
In fact, the idea of Eddie getting a little brother made me so happy, I almost burst when I found out. Cort did too. He always wished his younger brother was closer to his age, and I always wondered what it would be like to have a same sex sibling. We feel like we are giving Eddie a gift neither of us had growing up.
So why am I thinking about daughters?
I’m not sure, to be honest.
Someone the other day asked me if we were going to have a third to see if we could have a daughter.
I don’t know.
I know if we try for a third it won’t be because we are trying for a daughter, but for a baby. A completion to our family that we feel we need.
Right now I don’t know if we will feel like we need a third.
In fact, the thought that we might get a girl next time scares me.
Cort and I have both–separately–come to the conclusion that if for whatever reason, we never get pregnant again, we are totally ok with that.
Two boys.
The Sluiter Boys.
Eddie and Charlie.
But what if…
What if I am supposed to be the mom to a daughter?
Would she be like me when I was little and love pink and ruffles and Wonder Woman?
Would she be a “tom boy”?
I know that just like my boys, I don’t care if she falls in love with “gender roles” or not, but I do wonder if I would parent her differently.
I think of my own relationship with my mom.
I am her only daughter.
Lately I have noticed that there are definitely differences in the way she still parents me versus how she treats my brothers.
Is it because I am a girl or is it because I am me regardless of my gender?
Either way, I don’t always know if it’s good or not.
If it’s fair or not.
But I am 33. Does it matter anymore?
I definitely still notice it.
Would I do the same thing?
Will I do it anyway with my boys?
Does it matter whether I ever have a girl or not?
How do you maintain a sense of “fair” when you parent more than one child? Do you think gender comes into play or is it all about personality? Do you feel you are always “fair”?
Dear Charlie,
In just five weeks it will be the eve of your birth.
I have many emotions swirling around in my head and heart when I think about the closeness of your arrival.
I get nervous stomach and sweaty palms from excitement and anxiety.
I have been replaying Eddie’s birth over and over in my head as I prepare to go under the knife again for you. Eddie’s c-section was an emergency. I had been awake for over 24 hours and had been in labor most of that time. I was exhausted and hardly knew what was going on.
With you, I have an appointment for the morning of March 13. I will be able to shower, put on some comfy clothes, do my hair and light make-up, and walk into my room in the hospital.
I’m not nervous…but I am.
I mean, it’s surgery. I think anyone who is going to go in to be cut open is a little bit nervous.
But I know what it’s like, so that helps.
As of this weekend, to distract my nerves and anxiety, I have been consumed with doing things around the house. The problem? I really can’t do any of the things I want to do. This week we get carpet in Eddie’s new room and daddy will put together Eddie’s furniture, which means this weekend I can start to put Eddie’s books and toys and clothes away.
I have piles of stuff for you that I want to wash and put away, but I have to wait until Eddie’s stuff is put away first.
And lately other things have distracted me. I think I have made mental lists of “stuff” I want to do/purge in every room of our house.
I wonder if this is what nesting feels like.
I never felt this way when I was pregnant with Eddie. Daddy kept waiting for it to happen, but I just got more and more tired.
This time, I feel like cleaning things and organizing and purging.
I need to open up space for us to grow and be comfortable.
Right now I feel cluttered.
My mind, our house, my emotions…all cluttered.
Perhaps you have noticed that I have been trying to show Eddie a little extra love and attention lately. To be honest, I have been afraid that he will feel left out once you are here.
You don’t know this yet, but you take up a lot of time and attention. Time and attention that Eddie is used to completely having.
I know he won’t remember any of this. I don’t remember Uncle Chris being born and we are exactly the same age spread as you and Eddie.
But he knows what is happening NOW. He has feelings NOW.
Up until you are born, Eddie’s place in this family is the only child.
That is going to change, but it will be even better.
He will get to add Big Brother and Oldest to his roles.
And you will be Little Brother and Youngest.
Our hearts and love will expand to encompass both of you in a completely new way that we can’t imagine yet.
I think not being able to imagine or understand is what makes my hands clammy and brings the nerves to my tummy.
But my heart knows it to be true.
I know they say to enjoy the pregnancy because it is so much easier to care for the baby when he is on the inside rather than when he is on the outside.
But I am ready for you to be here.
I am ready to lose sleep in order to feed and care for you.
I am ready to relearn feeding schedules and sleep schedules.
I am ready for giving warm baths in the infant tub and wrapping you up like a little burrito.
I am ready to fall asleep on the couch with you wrapped up tight next to me.
I am ready for Eddie and daddy to fall in love with you the way I already have.
I am ready.
Five more weeks.
I have a wandering minstrel in my first hour.
For the past two years, I have watched this kid walk the halls between classes with his guitar strumming made-up tunes, current tunes, and riffs from my own teenage years.
This fall he wandered into my class and sat in the front row.
He is a junior who was born the same year I was a junior in high school….1995.
We talk music a lot because he enjoys the bands from my teen years. For awhile he and his friends would jam out some Weezer tunes in the hall after school. They congregated quite a crowd.*
He (and quite a few others at this point) and I discuss concerts since they are at the age that I was when I started my mad concert-going years. We talk about who is coming to our city and how I can’t go because I am all pregnant and tired and responsibly an adult now. And then I hope they go so they can report back.
Today he asked me how the band Bush was when I saw them in concert.
In 1996.
Most kids in my first hour were only barely a year old when I was at that concert. Bush with openers Goo Goo Dolls and No Doubt. And yes, that was when the Gavin and Gwen romance began. I went to the show on that fated tour.
At the end of the hour, he proceeded to play “Glycerine” for a group of students and I couldn’t help sing along as I entered in my attendance and other busy work things I have to do before the end of each hour.
That is when I realized the students were listening to something recorded before they were born.
I am almost 34 years old.
All these years I have been waiting to turn into an adult…waiting for that feeling of being a grown-up.
But I just feel like….me.
I am waiting to forget what it’s like to be a teenager…to lose my understanding of the angst of being 17. The way it seemed to me that adults forgot their teenage years when I was 17.
But I don’t forget.
Each feeling from my childhood…of being scared or nervous or anxious…come back to me when I see Eddie.
Each confused and hurt and joyous experience from my teen years come back to me when I talk with students.
I can’t forget.
I married someone who was with me through my teenage years. Who I grew up with. Who I spent countless hours discussing bands and movies and life with.
I don’t feel like I have changed.
But I know I have.
I worry about budgets and cleaning.
I get excited about carpet being installed.
I have babies and degrees and a professional career.
I remember on my wedding day giggling with my best friend about how “grown up” getting married was and how I couldn’t believe I was actually going to do it.
I was 27.
The first time I became pregnant I was embarrassed to tell my dad because he would know what I did to get that way.
I was married and 28.
Today Cort told me that Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit was on a radio show we both listen to talking about how it has been 17 years since their first album dropped.
I remember it.
I was at their very first shows in tiny little po-dunk bars wondering who this crazy awesome band was that was covering George Michael’s “Faith”…in heavy metal.
I remember being pushed to the front and wondering…will this always be awesome? When do adults suddenly look down on this and forbid it?
When will I be one of those parents who just don’t understand?**
This morning it hit me that I am an adult.
I know that seems weird, but I think today was the day that it finally hit.
I teach high school.
Every year the kids are 15-18 years old.
But I don’t stay the same age.
I am not 25 anymore like I was when I started.
I am not saying I feel 25 or 17 anymore. Goodness no.
But I don’t feel like I have morphed into the way I always thought adulthood would be either.
Today I realized I am an adult.
Because of a 17 year old wandering minstrel.
People try to put us d-down
Just because we g-g-get around
Things they do look awful c-c-cold
Yeah, I hope I die before I get old
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby ***
*a million points to the reader who knows what song I lifted that line from. And no, Cort, you cannot play. I know you know.
**this line? anyone? Come on…it’s an easy one!
***If you don’t get this one we can’t be friends anymore.
33 weeks
That means 6 weeks until Charlie’s debut.
As of my appointment on Friday everything looks (and sounds) fine and dandy.
Plus I lost two pounds.
Which my OB is not worried about since I started with…um…extra.
awesome.
I’m carrying higher and more in front this time.
Which means my shirts want to let the belly flow in the breeze from below.
Not my favorite thing, but whatever.
Sir Charles is training for the summer Olympics in there…I am sure of it.
My students just shake their heads and laugh when I walk past.
I think that’s a “big” joke, but I don’t even care anymore.
Big brother Prince Edward is excited…and concerned about what he will have to share ’round the Nation.
He should be excited….and concerned.
Our reality is about to change.
Soon.
With Valentine’s Day only 14 days away, a lot of people are thinking about romance and date nights and mooshy stuff.
Or not.
I was interviewed by Care.com about how Cort and I keep the zing in our relationship.
Hint: it has nothing to do with jewelry or roses.
You should also read the rest of the interviews by some of my very favorite bloggers like Meredith, Jenni, Beth Ann, and Kelly. I am pretty honored to be among these talented women for this round up of interviews.
Plus they all have great stories and tips for keeping the dating flame alive.
See you over there.
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